A Costume Ball by Varric Tethras
by KikyoGoddess
Summary: Varric Tethras, the famous author of "Hard in Hightown", "The Tale of the Champion" and "Swords and Shields", takes up his quill again to bring his loyal readers a short tale in celebration of Satinalia.


**A Costume Ball by Varric Tethras**

The Winter Palace's golden lions glinted in the evening's fading light. Inquisitor Adela Trevelyan still found herself amazed by all the splendour and magnificence.

"Maker's breath," muttered Commander Cullen Rutherford, "Why did I agree to this?"  
"Because Josephine would kill you if you turned down an invitation from the Empress of Orlais," replied Adela. Josephine Montilyet was standing right next to them, but she was too busy focusing her mind on other matters to notice her name being mentioned. Josephine gets like that when she's worried, you know. I tried waving a nug in front of her once when she was deep in thought. To this day I really don't think she noticed.

When they entered the vestibule, they heard a voice ring out,  
" _Ugh!_ Varric, YOU LITTLE SHIT – I won't forget this!" They darted upstairs and Cullen cried out in shock,  
"Knight-Commander Me- wait. _Cassandra_?" Cassandra whirled round to face them, her blonde wig swinging wildly in the air.  
"Cullen! Josephine! Inquisitor – look at how this dwarf has dressed me!"  
"Varric?" Adela gave me the raised eyebrow look. I threw my hands up in the air.  
"Well, the Seeker was stuck for a costume, so I bought her this Meredith outfit. She's the only other woman that's ever been more terrifying than our Seeker – and maybe Divine Victoria. But don't tell _her_ I said that. I like not being tortured."  
"Cassandra, your costume is very, er, convincing," said Cullen nervously. I laughed.  
"Curly, you look like you did the last time you played Wicked Grace. Don't worry, you still have your clothes… for the time being, at least." Cullen laughed too. Adela reassured the Seeker that her costume looked great, and we agreed to head into the ballroom. That was when we saw the rest of the costumes – Curly was some Ferelden king, the Inquisitor was wearing some old gown left behind by the scary witch – I mean, Morrigan – and Josephine Montilyet, ambassador to the Inquisition, was dressed as a Rivaini pirate. I wonder if she'd taken fashion advice from Isabela. As for myself, I went as an elf. I know what you're thinking, the impossibly handsome dwarf couldn't look any better than he does the rest of the time, but I have to say, pointy ears might not be so bad after all.

Our entry was announced to the ballroom and we were all greeted by Empress Celene Valmont herself. Still wearing the same blue dress. You'd think for an Empress she'd have more than one costume change.  
"My dear Eenqueezitor," she said in her charming Orlesian accent, "It 'az been so long since we saw your bee-loved face, and that of your eencridibly 'andsome dwarf." Well, okay, she might not have said that last bit, but she was thinking it.  
"Thank you for your kind hospitality, and may we continue with our happy friendship," replied the ever-diplomatic Inquisitor. Shortly after Celene left, we spotted Vivienne. As you can imagine, Madame de Fer was wearing the biggest, fanciest, most jewel-encrusted dress you could think of. I thought I'd go blind with all the glinting from the candlelight.  
"My dear, I am _so_ glad you came. This party is such a dull –", here she trailed off as if horror-struck.  
"Adela!" cried Dorian, waving as he sashayed through the crowds, "You're here at last! Thank the Maker! Bull was starting to get restless-" here _he_ stopped. Everyone was staring. Cassandra coughed as she tried to stifle a snigger.  
"Hello, darling," said Vivienne stiffly to Dorian, "I love your outfit."  
"Yes, great taste and all that," replied Dorian, "I might have worn something else if I'd known you were going to copy me, Madame de Fer." You could have cut the tension with a knife, and Madame de Fer looked as if she just might, although it was more likely she'd have plunged it into Dorian Pavus' face. The trusty dwarf stepped in.  
"Now you two, play nice. We don't want to get blood on the Empress' tiles. Again. Josephine got the bill for that last time."  
"Quite right, Varric," said Dorian. The Iron Bull finally showed up at this point - dressed as a unicorn. Try and imagine _that_.  
"Hey guys," said the Iron Bull, "Looking good. I always knew you'd look good as a blonde, Cassandra. You've got a good enough rack for it." Cue disgusted noise from our Seeker. The Iron Bull grinned. Adela stood chatting with Pavus and the Iron Bull, Josephine was talking with Cassandra and Vivienne, and Cullen was already being swamped by Orlesian noblewomen - and men - who all wanted a piece of him.

Now, I could go into detail about the trouble that began brewing that night; how a smile from a girl led to attempted assassinations or how Empress Celene ended up in bed wearing Cassandra's wig, but I won't because I may be sued and to be honest, as wealthy as I am, I don't need that kind of trouble.

All you need to know is that a lot of ale and wine was drunk that night, everyone got merry - including Josephine, who managed to lose the stick that's otherwise permanently up her - never mind. Some things are better left unsaid.


End file.
